


ashes of roses

by jillyfae



Series: they have hung the sky with arrows [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Consequences, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy Politics, M/M, Pre-Epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: Because actions have consequences, and whatcouldhave happened is sometimes scarier than what did.Recovery, and moving forward, after an unexpected attack.(But sometimes,just sometimes, change is for the better.)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: they have hung the sky with arrows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810009
Comments: 71
Kudos: 272
Collections: SHBingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very direct sequel to _ashes of angels_.
> 
> Bingo Square: Magic (Because I made up a bunch of lore in the background while writing the prequel, and I needed to do something with it!)

It hit Alec a few days later. 

He had work to do first, before he could let it. He talked to Consul Jia Penhallow, situated the prisoners, arranged for extra guards, adjusted the patrol schedules, collated and forwarded all the evidence they'd gathered to Acting-Inquisitor Patrick Penhallow and the City of Bones. He informed the LA Institute of all the addresses Freeman and her people had admitted to using so they could do a sweep for any additional evidence. Consul Penhallow assured him they were going through all known Freeman properties in Idris, as well, and he made himself believe her.

There wasn't anything he could do about it if she wasn't. 

After all that, he was _done,_ and he went _home._

He went to Magnus, and he hadn't meant to interrupt his work, he hadn't, but he saw him and he couldn't... he couldn't do it anymore.

He didn't even remember walking through the apothecary, but finally he was there where he needed to be. Magnus turned to greet him, and that was more than Alec could take. 

Magnus made a soft grunt of surprise as Alec made impact, literally flinging himself into Magnus and wrapping his arms around him. 

"Alexander," his voice was soft, and the touch of his fingers was too light, as if his hands were hovering, uncertain when Alec desperately needed him to be sure. 

Alec whined, and tucked his face into Magnus' neck, and clung tighter. 

"Oh." Magnus' arms finally settled, finally embraced him back, and Alec let go, felt himself shaking, his eyes dry and his lungs burning. 

"Oh, darling," Magnus' voice was lower this time, and his arms tightened.

Alec had no idea how long he stood like that, falling apart in the one place he knew it was safe to do so. 

Eventually he stopped shaking, and he could breathe again. 

But he didn't want to let go.

Magnus didn't make him, just adjusted them enough that they were side-by-side instead of tangled together, enough that he could walk Alec to the couch and pull them both down onto it. 

Alec knew he needed to say something, needed to let some of this out, but he didn't have any words, nothing beyond a wordless howl in the back of his head, some desperate, terrified sense of _what could have happened._

"Do you know why they call it pixie dust?" Magnus asked, his fingers stroking through Alec's hair, his voice low and soothing. 

Alec almost sobbed in relief, that somehow Magnus _knew,_ knew he couldn't talk yet, knew that more information always helped. He cleared his throat. He could say this, he thought. This was just data. "It's because it's not poisonous to the fae, right?"

"Mm-hmm." Magnus nodded, still gentle and slow. "For them it's just an aphrodisiac. Increased physical sensitivity, a warm flush of attraction, that sort of thing."

Alec shuddered. He supposed that he'd felt _warm,_ but that certainly wasn't where it stopped.

"Do you know how they make it?"

Alec shook his head.

"It's not made of pixies or something terrible like that, you know."

Alec rolled his eyes and managed to scoff. 

Magnus huffed out a soft breath. "I'm not sure if that meant I'm stating the obvious or not, but I'm going to keep going. Good?"

Alec tilted his head in half a nod, and let his weight settle a little more against Magnus' body. 

"It's made of ground up siren's scales, burned rose petals, and passionflower pollen, though the flowers have to have been grown by a warlock or a fae, or in a magical realm." Magnus' voice settled into an almost sing-song rhythm, like he was lecturing a class, and Alec felt the first faint stirrings of a smile. "Most people use honey to bind the ingredients together, and there are various arguments about which _sort_ of honey works best, but I've never seen any convincing evidence that that matters. You can _not_ use maple syrup though." Magnus shuddered, as if horrified that someone had even tried. 

Alec wondered why someone had, because clearly there was a story behind that, but he supposed he could ask about that some other day. 

"The part that makes it strong enough to work so effectively on the fae, however, is the Eidolon pheromones infused into the ingredients while they're dried into a powder."

_Oh._

That. That did explain a lot. 

"Eidolon pheromones are part of what make them so successful at seducing their victims of course; the body is comfortable with them even when the mind might notice that something's wrong with their impersonation of a loved one." Magnus' voice had less of a lilt now, his pronunciation very controlled and precise.

That was why Alec would have reacted to anyone he touched, why he wouldn't have had any choice...

He felt the tremble starting in his hands again, and pushed them hard against the couch arm behind Magnus to hold them still.

Magnus leaned back to help pin them, and squeezed his arms around Alec's shoulders. "It is the part that also makes it dangerous to everyone else, to various degrees."

Alec grunted at that, a lift to his voice trying to ask his question for him.

"What does it do to other people?" Magnus asked.

Alec nodded. 

"Well, for werewolves it reacts to their shapeshifting; it forces a change. Werewolf hunters use it when hunting so the body will be in werewolf form when it dies."

So they could harvest the skin and teeth, Alec knew. He gagged a little at the thought.

"Yes, exactly," Magnus agreed, fingers squeezing once more around Alec's shoulder before giving a very soft tug to the end of Alec's hair. "For vampires it has no aphrodisiac properties at all, it just makes them viciously ill for two days, and there's absolutely nothing anyone can do to mitigate the symptoms."

He seemed too still, and Alec gathered there was something he wasn't saying. He managed to lift his head, to look at Magnus directly, to raise one hand and offer a touch to Magnus' cheek.

Magnus smiled at him, and his eyes were sad. "If they're not restrained, they frequently try and kill themselves somewhere around the 36 hour mark."

Alec lowered himself back down to wrap his arms around Magnus, squeezing as tightly as he could. He wasn't sure if someone Magnus had known had succeeded, or if he'd had to watch them try, had to watch them in that sort of pain without being able to do anything about it. He nuzzled his nose against Magnus' collarbone, trying to offer comfort for something he could barely imagine. 

Magnus hugged him back, and kissed the top of his head. "Thank you, darling."

Alec hummed.

"Warlocks react similarly to the fae if they're dosed directly. A mostly harmless aphrodisiac, though it is very like being drunk, a little mentally compromised." Magnus paused, and Alec had a feeling he wouldn't like the next thing he said. "However, they're susceptible to secondary transmission in exactly the same way Nephilim are."

Alec gagged again, and curled in to protect the sudden sharp ache in his gut. 

"Shhh," Magnus sat up to curl over him, breath warm against the back of Alec's neck. "It's fine, we're both fine."

"I can't, stop thinking, I can't," Alec was shaking again, and this time he _was_ crying, tears too hot and burning as they dripped down his cheeks. "What if I hadn't recognized it?"

"I know." Magnus swallowed so hard that Alec could _hear_ it, could feel it as an echo of his own bone deep horror. He felt the drop of water on the back of his neck, Magnus' tears spilling over too. "I know."

Alec's fingers dug into Magnus' arm, and he knew he was gripping too tight, knew it had to hurt, but he couldn't, he _couldn't,_ he practically clawed his way into Magnus' lap, pushing his head into Magnus' shoulder. "I would have hurt you."

"It wouldn't have been you," Magnus clung back, and it was only the sharp points of his fingernails digging into Alec's shoulders that seemed to be keeping him in one piece. "It would never be you."

"It would have felt like me," Alec whispered, and Magnus reached up to cradle his face between his palms, to draw him up until Magnus could kiss him, the taste of salt scalding between their lips. 

"It would never," Magnus repeated, and kissed him again. "Never." 

Alec shuddered, and cried, and tried to believe him. 

He didn't manage it, but by the time he'd cried himself out he felt a little better, a little lighter.

It _hadn't_ happened. He held on to that. It had to be enough. 

Magnus kissed the top of his head, and shifted his shoulders, and Alec sighed. They ought to move to bed, but he was too tired. He closed his eyes, and felt Magnus tug the blanket off the back of the couch so it would fall on top of them.

They'd get up later.

For now they'd rest, just like this. 

Together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bingo square: Summoning (As in people who think they’re important want something out of you, not as in more magic.)

It took longer than Magnus had hoped it would, to finally receive a formal message from the Acting Inquisitor's Office with a summons to the trial. 

Magnus understood _why_ it had taken so long, considering the changes they were making. It was a lot, letting the rest of the Shadow World into Alicante, choosing delegates for the Tribunal that would oversee the trial, making sure the attendees knew, at least in general, how the trial would work, what the Silent Brother would be doing, who had leave to speak when, and so on and so forth, so it wouldn't be drawn out for too long. All of that took _time,_ Magnus knew that, but he'd begrudged every damnable second of it, every moment that Alexander had to walk around his Institute knowing that the people who'd tried to destroy him were right there, waiting for him to make a mistake, just a few floors down.

But now it was almost over.

Fucking _finally._

Alec came home early that night, and when Magnus looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise, Alec lifted his own summons. "We've all been relieved of duty until the trial's completed."

"All?" Magnus stepped closer, trying to decide if this was something worth getting angry about. "You mean _they_ attacked _you,_ and now _you_ are being punished?"

Alec shook his head, and leaned in to give Magnus a brief glancing kiss against his cheek. "No, I mean they're making sure we're free to attend the trial without any implications of conflicts of interests or having to answer any emergency calls from our Institute."

"Oh." Magnus begrudgingly admitted to himself that that was actually reasonable. "That makes sense."

"Shocking, I know." Alec answered drily. "They manage it occasionally." 

"Very rarely." Magnus poked Alec in the chest to emphasize his point, and also to see Alec roll his eyes. "Early dinner?"

Alec smiled, and for all he looked tired, he also looked less tense than he'd been in the weeks since the attack. "Sounds perfect. Though we should probably make sure we get enough for Jace and Izzy, they're liable to realize they're bored and need a distraction some time in the next five minutes."

Magnus' lips twitched. "You don't think they'll last at least an hour?"

"Well, we got these around lunch-time, I just uh..." Alec trailed off. 

"Took longer to get everything situated for whoever is taking over?"

"Actually, no?" Alec shifted on his feet, almost as if he was embarrassed. "They sent Lydia, since she's familiar with the Institute, and she and I spent two hours... catching up?"

Magnus snorted. "You mean you were bitching about every other Nephilim you've either of you ever had to work with who is less brilliant than the two of you?"

Alec smiled, and shrugged. "Maybe."

"Wait." Magnus lifted a hand, a flutter of anticipation in his chest. "Does that mean you have no work _at all_ until the trial starts next week?"

Alec's smile widened into a full-fledged grin. "It does, indeed." 

"And you were going to let me just... order extra take-out?" Magnus placed a hand on his chest over his heart, leaned back just a little to emphasize his _horror._ "Rather than celebrating properly?"

Alec laughed, and Magnus' chest ached at the sound; he didn't think he'd heard him laugh properly in weeks. 

"You're right, that was terribly short-sighted of me." Alec echoed Magnus’ earlier gesture, his hand to his heart as he bowed forward. "I beg your forgiveness."

"Well, I guess I can do that. If you get an overnight bag packed in the next fifteen minutes."

Alec lifted his eyebrows.

"I think we'll start with dinner in Paris?" Magnus clapped his hands, and spun around on his heel to head towards the bedroom and pack his own bag. "And then maybe southern Spain or Italy? A nice relaxing beach sounds just about perfect."

Alec hummed his agreement as he followed, and Magnus bounced up onto the balls of his feet. It was going to be _great._ He was going to have Alec all to himself for a few days, and they'd be calm and collected in front of the Tribunal and those Circle bastards would be _crucified._

And then... well. And then they'd be moving to Alicante, and Magnus still had no idea what he was going to _do_ there, but hell, he'd never tried being a house husband. Nothing wrong with spoiling his husband for a few years. They'd figure it out. 

But first, dinner somewhere made with too much butter and just enough wine, and then several days of just the two of them, with as little clothing as possible.

And then he got _another_ fire message. 

Magnus sighed, and grabbed it out of the air. It was on Spiral Labyrinth letter-head, and he sighed again.

"Nevermind, go order take-out, I apparently get to have a conversation with the Council right now. But!" He spun around, pointing at Alec, who straightened up, his smile still hovering around his mouth. "I still expect you to pack that bag, we are taking some time off, I don't care what it takes." 

"Yes, Magnus." Alec nodded, just seriously enough to be a tease. "Thai?"

"Hmm." Magnus frowned. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good." Alec gave him another kiss, a quick brush of his mouth on Magnus', just enough to make Magnus smile. "I'll make sure you know when it gets here."

"Thank you."

Magnus shut the door to his apothecary behind him, and frowned down at the message. They wanted to _talk_ to him, and he really hated the spell he had to use for it, but the Spiral Labyrinth was warded the way it was for very good reasons.

Magnus sighed for about the fifth time in three minutes, and pulled the scrying mirror he needed out of his safe. 

"Bane!" Lui Injala answered the mirror on the other end, their truly annoying grin even brighter than usual.

"Lightwood-Bane," Magnus corrected. 

"Exactly!" Injala somehow looked even _more_ delighted.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "What."

" _Lightwood-_ Bane," they repeated, as if that made any sense. "That's exactly what we need in Alicante."

Magnus frowned. "Is this about the trial?"

Injala lifted their hands and waved them back and forth in a ' _not-quite_ ' gesture. "Inspired by, perhaps?"

"And?"

"Well." Injala huffed out a breath, and their expression turned serious. "It was very difficult to find people for the Tribunal who didn't _already_ have opinions about you, or who didn't owe you favors, potential conflict of interest, blah blah, you know the drill."

"I suppose." Magnus frowned. "I don't know _everyone_ in the Shadow World, Injala."

"Close enough!" Injala's grin was back, and Magnus barely swallowed a groan. "Even when you don't know someone, you helped someone they _do_ know, or occasionally your showed them up at a party or something and they kind of want to dunk you the ocean for a couple hours 'til you stop looking so put together."

Magnus snorted. "Well, that's not very nice."

"Even half the people you've sat judgement against still respect you." Injala leaned forward, until their eyes took up most of the mirror. "That's quite the accomplishment."

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome." Injala sat back. "So I assume your husband told you that the Nephilim are looking to _keep_ Idris open to the rest of the Shadow World after the trial?"

Magnus nodded.

"We need someone there, we think, as a reliable resource for anyone who needs assistance while they're there, even if it's just visiting, and we _especially_ need someone already settled there to help anyone who takes the Nephilim up on their invitation to stay."

"You need an ambassador?" Magnus wondered why he hadn't thought of that, because of course they would. They couldn't very well expect the Nephilim to know _how_ to be welcoming on their own, even if they were finally operating under good intentions this time. "Did you want a recommendation?"

"Don't be dense." Injala rolled their eyes with a groan. "I'm already talking to _Magnus Lightwood-Bane,_ the only warlock in the world who can _already_ get into Alicante whenever he damn well wants to."

_Oh._

Magnus blinked.

"You want me?"

"To be the first High Warlock of Alicante, and serve as liaison to the Inquisitor and Consul of the Nephilim, yes." 

"You trust me to represent us to my husband?" Magnus tilted his head, considering. "You know I'll put him first."

"But he's made it very clear that he'll also put _you_ first. It's a good balance. If the Nephilim are willing to risk it, so are we." Injala grinned, their teeth bright and sharp looking. "And if you fuck it up, we'll have words."

Magnus snorted. That, at last, was normal when dealing with the Council. "Let me talk it over with Alec, but I think we can do that." 

"Glad to hear it, _High Warlock_."

Magnus waved, as overtly and obnoxiously cheerful as Injala had ever been. "Nice talking to you, Councilor."

The light in the mirror faded, and Magnus hummed, looking at his own reflection. 

_High Warlock of Alicante._

It had a nice ring to it. 

Magnus watched his reflection smile, and stood up to go talk to Alec. 

_Guess I won't be a house-husband just yet, after all._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bingo square: Cursed Item (Because Cat & Magnus are _not_ fond of the Soul Sword, even if it is deactivated from its murder!powers.)

Unlike the last mundane trial Magnus had seen, the witnesses at this one were not kept separated from each other or the proceedings, but were all lined up to sit behind the advocate. (He made sure he and Catarina were next to each other, Alec on his other side.) The defendants were in their own balcony with two guards watching over them. 

Magnus resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at them, even if it would have helped his nerves.  


Patrick Penhallow, as Acting-Inquisitor, was seated in the middle of the large table up against the back wall, five nephilim Magnus didn't recognize sitting on his right, and the five other races’ representatives on his left. Magnus wasn't close to any of them, for obvious reasons, but he could figure out who they all were from meeting them in passing, or hearing other people talk about them; the Shadow World was a surprisingly small and insular society, considering it was world-wide. They were, based on what little he knew of them, all decent choices. Reasonable and pragmatic enough to try and do the job asked of them without losing their tempers or dismissing everything as a nephilim only problem. 

The Soul Sword was front and center, hilt-up in its stand, in the same sort of pride of place as Magnus saw at Isabelle's sham of a trial back in New York; he hoped this one would be more authentic. 

Not that it would take much. 

There was a Silent Brother and a woman in white whom Magnus assumed was an Iron Sister at a small table of their own, clearly there for the Sword more than any of the people. 

Magnus wondered if they'd make him and Catarina swear on the damn thing again. It wasn't something he was looking forward to. Not that he'd liked it the first time, but it seemed even worse now, after what Valentine had done with it in New York.

Catarina frowned at it, presumably thinking the same thing. 

"Are we going to have to touch the cursed thing?" she muttered at him, quietly enough he was surprised when Alec leaned over to answer her.

"It's voluntary for the witnesses, it's only the defendants who _have_ to testify by the Sword."

"Oh." She blinked past Magnus to look at Alec. "Good."

Alec offered her a crooked smile, and Magnus felt a twist in his gut. 

"You're going to submit to the Sword, aren't you," Magnus said.

Alec shrugged. "Of course."

Magnus swallowed a frown. From what he'd heard, that was _not_ a pleasant process. 

He understood though, considering what Alec was starting with this trial, with the appointment that was going to be announced afterwards, (assuming he _won,_ of course, but Magnus was trying very hard not to think about all the ways this could go wrong).

"I hate this," Magnus slouched further down into his seat. 

Alec settled his hand on Magnus' thigh, offering a comforting squeeze. "It's almost over."

But it wasn't, it was just the beginning. The beginning of something _better,_ Magnus had every faith in Alec's ability to make the nephilim change if they gave him even an inch of power to hold on to, but still...

They were never going to have their old lives back. 

Magnus was not fond of change, it was too close to _surprises._

But he was fond of Alexander, was looking forward to standing up to the Consul himself, so...

Magnus sighed, and put his hand on top of Alec's. They'd make it through this, and through whatever happened next. He was sure of it. 

The advocate called Catarina forward first. He was remarkably polite to her, even when she refrained from touching the Sword, which helped Magnus settle. He asked her about Alec's condition, and recovery, and seemed inclined to accept her expertise.

Magnus would have hated to have caused a scene, but he wouldn’t have let them bully his best friend, either. 

Next was the medic at the Gard who'd done the confirmation tests on Alec's blood. He made some point about the concentration of the residue which meant less than nothing to Magnus, but seemed to impress half the nephilim side of the table, so he supposed that was good. 

Next were Jace and Isabelle, and the pair of Shadowhunters who'd searched the addresses in LA, then the pair from the Inquisitor's office who'd done the same here in Alicante.

It was remarkably _boring,_ all things considered, but it was nicely thorough, which Magnus appreciated.

Finally they called Magnus, and he walked up front. They repeated the same routine they'd done with everyone else, confirming who he was, that he was a voluntary witness, that he would swear to tell the truth. 

He had three choices for that. He could simply swear, out loud, and they would presumably pretend to take his word for it. He could do what he'd done at Isabelle's trial, and swear by the Sword where it was in its stand, and it would flare if he lied, but it wouldn't compel the truth out of him. 

The third option was to hold the Sword, to bear the weight of it, but he wasn't entirely sure what that would _do_ to him, Downworlder and son of a Fallen Angel, so he went with option two again.

He sat, and he answered all their questions. (Their advocate was good at his job, still, even after all the questioning, straightforward and polite.) There was an odd whisper of surprise when he started and told them that Alec had been the one to tell _him_ that he'd been poisoned with pixie dust, but no one interrupted him, or tried to counter anything else in his account.

(Well, they didn't like the body swapping portion of the story, either, but when he said it was based on a spell he'd been subjected to by a Greater Demon and he had worked backwards to figure out how to counter it, they didn't ask if he'd told anyone _else_ how to do it, for which he was grateful. No one needed to know that he'd taught Cat.)

He returned to his seat when they were done with him, and leaned his head against Alec's shoulder for the few moments they had before it was Alec's turn. 

Alec walked up, and before anyone could ask him anything, he pulled the Soul Sword free. He planted his feet, holding it sideways before him, balanced easily between both hands. He lifted his chin, looking at the advocate, and waited.

The advocate blinked at him, clearly startled. 

No one else had picked up the sword; most everyone had sworn by it, as Magnus had, (neither Catarina nor the medic had), but this... this was apparently unusual. 

Magnus smiled a little. Trust Alexander to make a statement even when he didn't say a thing.

The advocate cleared his throat, and pulled on his jacket, but before he could begin, one of the nephilim at the table interrupted.

"May I ask a question?"

The advocate frowned, but gestured his acquiescence. 

"Mr. Lightwood-Bane, your husband stated that _you_ were the one who identified the poison, is that correct?"

"Yes," Alec answered. "Both in that he said so, and that that's what happened."

"How did you know?" 

Alec lifted his eyebrows. "I recognized the taste."

"How?" The nephilim questioning him leaned forward, a frown growing heavier on her face. "You were drinking alcohol, correct? Pixie dust is notoriously easy to disguise in alcohol."

"I'd tasted it before." Alec's voice was steady, as if that was a perfectly normal thing for a Shadowhunter to admit, familiarity with a very potent, potentially fatal, aphrodisiac. 

Magnus' throat burned, wondering how, and why, and what was wrong with him that it had never occurred to him to _ask..._ Murmurs broke out throughout the room, and Magnus was relatively sure he heard a vindicated sort of "ha" from Freeman over on her balcony. 

"If I may?" Alec continued, calmly, voice strong and firm enough to carry over the noise. "I would like to continue."

The nephilim who'd been questioning him scoffed. "As if we want to hear about your previous _exploits._ "

"Ma'am." Alec looked at her, still calm, now clearly disappointed. "You asked the question, it's rude to refuse to listen to the entirety of the answer."

There was a snort of poorly muffled laughter from somewhere behind Magnus, and he wondered if the woman was the sort who was known for her adherence to an inflexible version of nephilim etiquette. 

Judging from the sour look on her face, she was, and Magnus let himself breathe again. Alec wasn't upset or flustered. He'd clearly been prepared for this question, even if Magnus hadn't been. 

"Hodge Starkweather included exposure to many known toxins in our training." 

Magnus turned to look at Isabelle and Jace, eyes wide and horrified, and yet they both just shrugged at him, as if it hadn't occurred to either of them until now that that wasn't _normal._

Even the sour-faced Nephilim who'd started it all looked unsettled. "Your trainer dosed you with _pixie dust?_ "

Alec shrugged. "He did it in as secure a manner as could be managed. It was carefully measured and diluted, and he gave us an emetic afterwards, followed by a dose of charcoal to absorb anything we failed to expel. He always had the necessary antidotes on hand, when they existed, and made sure we stayed in the infirmary overnight as well, to be monitored for any side-effects."

 _When they existed._ Magnus' fingers curled into a fist. Hodge had dosed them with things that _didn't have antidotes._ What good would it do them to know that? To risk that, for what? For _training?_

Only he knew exactly what good it would do, to make sure that even if they lost, they'd take everyone else down with them. 

The old woman's mouth opened, but she didn't appear to know what to say for a moment. "But." She swallowed. "Why?"

"Are you asking me to speculate, ma'am?"

The woman recovered enough to glare at him, and then the Sword. She sighed. "Yes, please speculate."

"I believe Hodge was aware of exactly what lengths the Circle was capable of going to, the things they would do that most people won't, or like to pretend they won't do, and wanted us to be prepared." He paused, and the entire room was silent. Alec shifted his gaze toward the balcony, looking directly at Revka Freeman. "Was he wrong?"

"Fucking _Starkweather,_ " they all heard Freeman mutter. 

"If it helps," Alec offered, voice bland and expression still, "Valentine already killed him for you."

Freeman flinched, and Alec turned the weight of his attention back to his questioner. "Was there anything else, ma'am?"

She shook her head. 

"Actually." The medic stood up from where he'd been sitting on Catarina's other side. "Do you know what the numbers I found during my exam meant?"

The advocate threw his hands up in the air and sat down with a thud. 

Patrick Penhallow's lips twitched, as if amused, but no one seemed inclined to stop the medic from messing with their procedure.

Or perhaps everyone wanted to hear the answer. 

"Yes," said Alec. 

The medic waited, but Alec didn't say anything else. 

"Care to explain it?"

Alec shrugged.

The medic glared at the Sword.

"Mr. Lightwood-Bane," the advocate spoke up. "Please."

"I believe that means I had a much higher dose than is required for efficacy."

There was another awkward silence, comprehensive enough that Magnus was reasonably sure that _everyone_ heard the small pained noise that escaped him, the rattle of Jace's chair as he winced. 

The medic rubbed his forehead. "It means I don't understand why you're not _dead._ "

Alec's expression softened, and he glanced at Magnus, at Catarina, at his siblings. "I had very impressive assistance."

The medic made a distressed sort of whine. "But how'd you last long enough for them to help you?"

Alec raised his eyebrows. "I'm not the medic, nor an expert on poisons."

"Speculate?"

Alec tilted his head, and met Magnus’ eyes. "Because Magnus told me to." 

The medic sat down with a huff, but the sword didn't light up, and Magnus knew Alec meant it, believed it, every word. 

_Oh, Alexander._ Magnus blew him a kiss, and Alec smiled back at him. 

After that, they finally got back on track, and Alec gave his testimony, strong and steady, and never once did the sword have to fight to make him speak.

Magnus could tell, could feel it in the room as Alec finished. They'd won, the rest of the trial was just a formality. They were getting everything they'd hoped for, everything they hadn't thought to hope for, before Jia's offer, and Injala's. 

Their world was changing for the better. 

Alec was going to be the best damn Inquisitor these bastards had ever seen, and Magnus was going to be at his side every step of the way. 


End file.
